Showing posts with label Cosmos. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Cosmos. Show all posts

Monday, July 2, 2018

When Photons Entangle




When in that other universe,
Our photons might entangle,
I'll remind you then with simple verse,
How friendship kept you single.
Whatever quantum reality,
Superposed another new life,
I reminded you then with simple prose,
I said you'd be my wife.
Don't wait forever for the day,
These lines come forth and tangle,
All time is woven by these rays,
Of photons that got entangled.


Sunday, July 10, 2016

Dirty Processes




Oh to move our dirty processes,
to the moon or Mars or somewhere far from us,
And there mine gasses like Helium-three,
to supply our Earth with energy that's free.


Friday, February 5, 2016

A Beam of Light




From a lost dim star, beyond Sirius,
Some photons made their way to us
Waving hot, though cursed.
As centuries ticked by on Earth,
How many departed, in what record?
Of loves departed Orion's sword.
A hundred-thousand light year song
A galaxy across, stars played along,
Gathering news with waves of force,
Gravity bending, flew on course.
Cro-Magnon with flint tools bored,
Across heaven's expanse of space they soared
Pressed on, they must,
Brothers, sisters dead by specks of dust
Collisions to barely warm a comet's ear,
Made precious by light in just one year.
More lost than sand in deserts girt,
Of earth and Mars, that snow and dirt.
When light dies, oh how matter hurts.
Asteroid belts gunned down platoons,
And patrolled the solar system round.
Lepton corpses gathered in orbits muted,
Rather unnoticed by electrons recruited.
Survivors wander'd earthward lost in haze,
Ionic confusion to end their days.
Drowned by atmospheric streams,
Some hit my eye, my cornea dreams,
Outside cold, from star streams hot,
Photonic time was running out.
Yet at the cataract a few occluded,
Rushed the aqueous sea secluded
Past Cerberus, Iris, briefly crossed,
Those hit pigment flourished lost
Crossed vitreous, cracked by age,
Most killed, few paid a final wage.
A dozen or two made right of way,
Searching to disembark in quay
Or beach safely, a retinal landing,
How light works is understanding,
I've lost you star, you are gone,
I saw the gleam of one photon,
For an instant, pivot die,
And knew just then, we shined.


Tuesday, February 24, 2015

A new Paradigm for understanding Consciousness




To posit that consciousness is pervasive, might mean developing a theory for a new force field from within the corpus of modern physics. We might need to reexamine Dark Matter, Dark Energy, and the existence of black holes, as a way of defining the limitations or interactions of a conscious field. While I feel that forays of consciousness theory into established physics will occur, I am skeptical of this approach.

David Chalmers has suggested that what is needed is a 'crazy idea', one that conjectures new groundwork, and possibly a new set of variables. Consciousness he argues simply cannot be modeled with the scientific vocabulary at hand.

A better theory of consciousness will provide an illusion of progress, but it also will keep us on the same side of the problem that we've been stuck in all along. We'll have more more variables and another field to experiment with. But our viewpoint will remain descriptive, and materialist. We'll have a belief system rooted in what we can see, touch and feel, and we'll have equations for everything else.

Rene Descartes dismissed consciousness with his quip, "I think therefor I am" and then devoted no more effort to the problem. Mathematics would penetrate the secrets of nature. Consciousness was a self-evident truth that needed no investigation at all.

There another way to approach Chalmers' 'hard problem'. Believe for a moment that matter is an illusion, that the material world, including sensory perceptions of it, sights, sounds and colors, buildings, rocks, bodies, and heavy pianos are notions made real by consciousness.

This is the Vedanta, the Eastern viewpoint. Matter is brought to life by consciousness. Without consciousness nothing would exist at all. Or put more simply, everything exists because of consciousness. Consciousness creates.

To summarize the Vedantist Indian thinkers, the two 'hard problems' are 'what is the universe?' and 'what is consciousness?'. Science being a product of consciousness, can only fact check, and report back what it has 'observed'. Yet the conscious mind knows of more than science. So science cannot possibly come to terms with consciousness except through a radical manipulation of numbers which that are not real to begin with.

Infiltrate into the camp of the animating spirit, consciousness, and we suddenly become aware that we've set up opposing categories. Dualities, in science as in reality, have a way of crashing down.

So with what perambulation of art or philosophy, shall we approach the call for a new paradigm of consciousness?

Let us rephrase the question: Isn't that call for a new paradigm about consciousness, simply a call for new consciousness? Isn't science pointing out a numeric tool for fact checking certain beliefs about reality are useful for some forms of understanding? But as the child of consciousness, science is a tool; it could not understand what conceived of it in the first place.

For five hundred years, the West has regarded consciousness as a fragile commodity. No hard evidence has surfaced of it wherever we go digging. Consciousness, the subjective experience, has never been located as stuff, measurable 'reality' according to a materialists model for existence.

Suppose imagination and consciousness create matter, not the other way around. Suddenly it's all alive, it's all conscious, it's all aware. The universe is intelligent, our galaxy is intelligent. Photons act consistently and bear consciousness wherever they go. All atoms participate in the grand calculation of possibilities, displaying color, logically interacting with each other to form giant miasmas of consciousness throughout the universe. A galaxy is alive. It thinks. It is endlessly patient and watches a succession of intelligent life forms come and go.

Is there more 'consciousness' in our Sun than on earth? More in the earth than in any of it's life forms? Are we to be democratic and say consciousness is spread evenly about, present to some degree in all matter? Or shall we create rules and laws governing the interactions of consciousness with matter, not unlike the interactions of the basic forces as defined by modern physics.

The simplicity of this question has materialist roots, granting to each bit of matter consciousness according to its size. Yet even our instincts tell us that cannot be so. It's a complex commodity, and perhaps one that all of Western science simply can never come to describe adequately, but certainly not through a quantitative and descriptive scientific method.

Complex and unknowable except through self-knowledge. This is the answer that we receive from the Vedanta.

So consciousness much change, ebb flow, move about, and change lives within matter, its carrier. As the animator of matter it must be the field of all fields. It cannot simply exhibit inverse square relationships with all other conscious bodies, as gravity does with massive bodies. No, consciousness, whether pervasive or universal [Chalmers], is growing in our universe. It is not constant. Consciousness is breaking out all over.

Could consciousness be everywhere you look because it is making everything you see?

Prove to me that something unobserved exists. It can't be done. Yet science insists on a reality independent of the observer.

I don't insist on either answer. The duality itself is a fiction, a product of consciousness.

A very early belief of mine was that Earth as a rock, the Sun, the Galaxy, every body, and thus all rocks, as well as photons individually, are all absolutely conscious. Inexorably and with a very high degree of complexity in the case of the geology of the Earth, and immediately but very simply in the case of the photon, they all display a conscious element.

One of the arts I do is pottery, and when I fire a wood kiln, I'm always of the feeling that the firing of a kiln represents a life, not unlike the life of a candle flame, or a person. When the fire is very large and very hot and burns for a week it is a form of advanced consciousness. The fire seems to make conscious choices. I've written a lot about this in other places on this blog.

The quantum personality of a photon also displays rudimentary decision making and the appearance of consciousness, So do identical twins separated at birth. What is the 'stuff' that keeps them connected as they live their separate lives? As materialists we have measurements of both behaviors, though most psychologists and neurologists will probably continue to scoff at the introduction of a new conscious dimensionality to this study.

The most serious quantum physicists do admit that their mathematical descriptions are objective and limited. Richard Feynman admitted to the unsatisfactory solutions offered by quantum physics to optical phenomena, even complained about it, essentially calling it 'an ugly theory that works'.  Most others would probably express these gripes privately.

If we admit that all systems process energy to some degree, and by definition are not isolated from the rest of the universe, then they'll display some measurable level of a soon to be recognized variable, a 'field of consciousness', not unlike that of gravity or electromagnetism.

What is the universe, but matter and consciousness? Western science has been starved of answers, but it's researches take it closer to the door of psyche. We are creeping up on truths recognized by Shaivism and the Vedanta for thousands of years. The great success of science may be realized at the moment it gives up, in the same manner as Einstein gave up when in a conversation with Tagore with the conclusion, "Then I am more religious than you!"

If we were to formulate a scientific materialist description of consciousness, then we would be brought paradoxically no closer to answers for the current mysterium. Yes, we'll have turned to face the problem. We'll have acknowledged Chalmers' 'hard problem', but simply added more flesh to the bones of a mathematical and descriptive solution.

Describing consciousness such that it could be written on a T-shirt would just drop us at the same bus stop we were at previously, except now we'll have a field of abstractions devoted to describing consciousness, but lack the means, by way of science at least, of seizing and understanding that conscious field. The progress will mimic a Death of Science, and an ebbing of Western thought. At least when getting off the bus, we'd now be facing the palace with a locked door.

Those laws, which I'm sure will follow, will be written off the springboard of scientific materialism which we will have clung to since the early Islamic scientists of the 11th-13th Centuries. We'll have objectified the subject, but will still stand outside our new subject, as we did before David Chalmers gave his 1994 talk.

Is the approach to consciousness a boundary to be progressively fought back? Or to understand it mustn't one in some way infiltrate to the other side of the barrier that stands in our way? I absolutely see the latter approach. We need a top down revision in our philosophy of science that admits our current science as a viable laboratory for testing and verification, but not of understanding.

I believe that while we need to understand a new set of laws, we need to think of consciousness as a manifestation of all systems, ranging from the extremely simple to the universally large and massively complex.

These questions are inherently philosophical, but they ask for scientific verification. Aren't we looking for giant revisions to our scientific philosophy that can be corroborated by our older observational science?

-:)(:-


Thursday, January 16, 2014

The Monolith

A friend asks, what's the meaning of the black rock in "2001 Space Odyssey". There's devilish intent in her question, she insists I answer. Perhaps I'll see if my thoughts are insanely stupid or short sighted, after I re-read them in a number of years:

One pernicious myth, perhaps just hubris, is that humans are the apex consciousness on our planet, even our galaxy. Never mind that we still do not understand consciousness, we believe, as children believe, we are the best at it. Wander through the Museum of Natural History to get the picture. Human evolution is the supreme act, the pinnacle story of life Earth, look there go the giant dinosaurs, inferior because they died out.

Call it the standard model. Sense a certain house-proud disregard for the other more primitive beasts. Witness our evolution, up from the apes. Dioramas of early human societies, displayed in the same manner as collected bison, and creatures from Africa and South America.

Astronomers have more or less proven, by means of mathematical probability, that other life forms not only exist, but actually are very prevalent in the universe, simply because the universe is so large and the abundance of other solar systems and planets so great.

It is also a mathematical certainty that life forms exist which surpass us in age, history, technological and intellectual might. They may not even be carbon or water based life forms! Those that are confident of the existence of extraterrestrial life know this in their guts. Others know it from first hand experience, claiming to have been contacted directly, or abducted. For Stanley Kubrick and Arthur Clarke in the late 1960's these were ground-breaking ideas.

What would contact with a higher level of consciousness feel like? How would we describe it? What would we see? Would the visitor leave signs, or a token that it had visited? I'll second what many before me have written and say the black monolith stands as a reminder left by a superior consciousness, that man has arrived at some stage of evolution, be it tool-making or space-travel . . . or life outside of time and space.

One might consider this notion another way. If the monolith is a sign of the passing presence of a superior intelligence, are we simply noticing it when we are ready to? In other words is the monolith put there for us to notice then, or now? On another axis, what evidence of superior life forms are we currently oblivious of, simply because our minds cannot recognize them as living?

And what if that alien consciousness does not live within three dimensions, like us, but rather exists in multiple dimensions? They would not be visible to us at all, unless, either intentionally or as a side effect of their presence, they left some sort of sign, like a crystal.

Hence that perfect black rock.

Friday, December 30, 2011

Mars and Venus



Impetuous Mars fought with Iron,
A love of Venus that would not tire.
Venus drank from her copper bowl,
The blood from Mars' Warrior Soul.

Tuesday, December 13, 2011

Higgs Boson II



Out in Magnetic Space-Time, in a Field of bumpy Molts,
The Mother of All Matter got whacked, by Trillions of Electron Volts.
With two such model Bosons, could Space-Time possibly be flawed?
Two magnitudes a Proton, she comes and goes a God.

Higgs Bosun I

Wednesday, December 22, 2010

Studio Visit

A few weeks ago I made the drive up to Chatham, NY to visit my old friend Peter Acheson. He's a painter who has steadfastly pursued the unravelling of a complex legacy of abstract language, that lies at the feet of all painters. Unravelling, as in untying, so that he might be freed from it, also un-tidying, since modern abstract painting has become an overly tidied room, void of essence.

I remember Peter in drawing class, freshman year. His works were gentle, and persuasive. He didn't seem to be interested in big graphic statements.

In fact most of Peter's works are small, some are canvases, but most are wooden panels or boards that measure less than twenty four inches on a side. Many are indeed tiny, four inches by six for example.

             P. Acheson, oil on canvas 11" x 9"
Peter's language has been remarkably consistent in a way that it seeks refinement, or detachment from ego, throughout his life. He has never intruded on another artist's space with a version of his own.

So I was axious to see his new paintings. I'd seen some on Facebook, they were painted in swirls of color, blending one into the other, like weather on the Solarian Sea. The Solarian Sea? Let me explain.

Peter and I are both fans of Tarkovsky's great film 'Solaris', which features a sea, a bizarre swirling, ever changing weather system, on the surface of an alien planet, that seems to be alive, and intelligent.

Astronauts who visit the space station hovering over the planet's turbulent surface, find their dreams become real, their fantasies come to live with them, the dead return to haunt their lives with no memory, and their most bizarre fantasies take material form, as if the 'sea' were reading them, and delivering material conformity after their thoughts.

'Solaris' takes notions of scale, and intelligence, and definitions of 'living' and 'alive' and turns them upside down, literally, as all humans who visit the eirie ghost-ship locked in post-Soviet suspended orbit, experience their innermost thoughts made physical, and real with bizarre 'visitations'.

The small canvas pictured here, entitled 'Burchfield/Birchfield', suggests a visitation by dead figurative artist Charles Burchfield, and implies that the deceased project posthumously into the living, in this case Charles Burchfield through Peter, as a field of birches. Need we dwell on the image of River Styx?

The idea of an alien super-intelligence able to re-animate past lives, is an wonderful concept, one I've always embraced. It would be 'molecular tracking', and re-assemblage, on a monumental scale . . . and yet the one thing our universe doesn't seem to lack, is scale. We cannot rule out such possibilities.

What it does lack, are spots where a piece of it, reflects the same laws that make the whole thing. Split a kitchen into bits and you may end up with a piece of a bowl rather than the chef's notes. Modern physics insists that the laws are the same everywhere, though some are calling this notion into doubt.

To say otherwise would be to claim that the universe is 'uniform', and that every 'piece', by reflecting the laws that made the whole, are in some way all you need to get back to the whole.

Such 're-constituteable bits', something holographic and so of its essence that it allows an 'unpacking', a little like decompressing a large file after downloading it from the net, must by necessity, be rare.  I couldn't help but notice the similarity between Peter's work, and Tarkovsky's, in Solaris.

So, ideally, to experience the Solarian Sea, one has to dip one's children into it, staying way the hell away as an artist . . to see, what is there. What one pulls out are egoless records, slices of what goes on, when mind disperses into the vastness of something greater.

No mind.

                                                                fr. 'Solaris', Andrei Tarkovsky

Saturday, December 11, 2010

Songs of Orpheus



DNA, and RNA, it will soon be discovered, are light-processing molecules.

All molecules process light. All atoms. Exited enough, heated enough, struck by radiation of any kind, electrons, they emit photons in return. But few are built as musical instruments.

That noble helix, and its half one-off copy, RNA, are 'light ladders', that spin out photons when 'strummed' by a special acrobat, the serotonins manufactured by numerous plants, funghi and the brain itself. They light up as they move down through helical contortions, reading the code, and sending out light.

This I believe, and hope one day I can prove, is the source of the ancient myth of Orpheus and his music.

Radio waves are light. Certain molecules enable us to transmit and receive.

The very beautiful 'pick' for this instrument exists in the form of serotonins in our own brain, or ingested psilocybin, the DMT  (Dimethyltryptamine) in ayahuasca. The list of plant compounds that invite Orpheas' music is vast Cannabis, ArtemesiaSalvia, Datura, and magic mushrooms of many genus', Stropharia, Psilocybe, Amanita and  Claviceps. Even some animal compounds, notably amphibians and reptiles are psychedelic.

Orpheus's song surpassed the music of the Gods themselves. His music healed, moved, altered, changed. He was said to be able to charm and transfix in bliss the wild beasts, any living thing, even the weather and stones. Could Orpheus's music have been the essence of a transcendental experience, a life altering psychedelic mysterium, brought on by ingestion of a gift from another living substance.


   C, G, A, T
   A, C, T, G
   G, T, C, A
   T, A, G, . . . C.


Now if a 'system' broadcasts information using radio waves, which are light, photons of a non-visible wavelength, that 'system' is also tuned to receive the same frequencies.

Therefor, it is not only likely that we are playing our own DNA, but also hearing the DNA played to us by others.

All our DNA? Most likely yes . . but here's the interesting part . .

So called 'junk' DNA, that is the vast majority of our genetic makeup that has not yet been identified as possessing genes, is now turning out to be a kind of historical transcription of the 'tablet' upon which our genetic information is written. For a moment consider it as the part of the blackboard that bears a record of things being written, then erased out.

It's history, a transcription of our family tree back to the beginning of time. A symphony of biological evolution, a swell of song extolling our ancestors, and the existence of life.

It is my belief that junk DNA is actually where the majority of our cultural genes reside, and that these genes, that determine behaviors instead of physical makeup, may be played so that the culture of others may be understood, particularly, and I mean this, particularly, when a ritual of playing those songs is engaged with the help of one of the aforementioned substances.

Genes, 'junk', social genes, if it is in DNA, it can be played by serotonins in the brain. We become tree frogs singing the song of our existence. We alter reality with our song.

In other words, communal ingestion of a psychedelic substance in a ritual context, amplifies the song played by one's DNA, and that this may be received by other minds much as the same way as tuned coils receive and broadcast radio waves simultaneously.

Tune yourself to the songs of others! Orpheus lives in all of us. The lyre of light, the ladder of life . .

   From our moment of birth when our DMT sings,
   Plays all our many, nucleotide 'strings'.
   Broadcasts our history, our life to our kin,
   Frequencies blasting the state your mind's in.

Stay tuned for amplifications on this thought.

Thursday, December 9, 2010

Aquarian Moon

Galileo


     Soon my Muse leaves Capricorn,
     to welcome my Aquarian moon.
     This must be why,
     she's lights my eye,
     And plays such a sane tune.

Time

What if I told you your life's been lived,
Angled from any viewer,
What if I said all Time was dead,
Would you say I've been smoking Datura?

What if I said that despite foresight,
Nothing is predetermined.
It's not about age, light can still change,
The sculpture that your life once learned.

What if the past were nothing but light,
Moving about dark matter.
What if your glass needed no fright,
For the time it would eventually shatter.

-:-

What if I said your life's not yet lived,
You were just the dream of an angel.
What if I said, that your Mom and your Dad,
Haven't even bought your spaniel.

What if I said that despite all the light,
The future's too gone to observe,
All of that time just sits in a cage,
A mulch pile rotting reverse.

What if I said that you're held up by light
You fall and keep falling further,
What if I said there's no need to try
To avoid falling back into your Mother.



What if I said we'd lie twice in our lives,
The second time might be this winter?
What if I said, I'd visit you instead,
And crawl to you through your window.

What if I said that the stars out tonight,
Were so bright they'd make us go blind.
All that you show me, proves how badly you know me,
Without you I see how I've died.

What if I said, we ought not to fight,
Or scream in the car to each other,
What if I said there's no need to shine bright,
Except to our very old Mothers.

-:-

What if I said your light's still alive,
I see you here as a widow.
What if I said that I wasn't yet dead,
But look at you through my window.

What if I said that in-spite of our plight,
There's nothing we can do with our brains.
It all became art, that life as it was,
Before our dear hearts became blind.

What if I said, we were nothing but light,
Rushing about the dark in a bother.
What if I said, that there's no need to be bright,
Except for our very old Mother.

Mercury



Mercury's gone retrograde,
Time to stop writing poems.
I'll rhyme instead with paint on pots,
That my kiln will be firing soon.

Fragments




Inside of a krater, a wild tornado,
Churned up some molten rock.
Then blew out volcanic lava,
from a heart that was exceedingly dark.
Some of it spurted airborne, a freak display of love.
That's how ash got rained on us,
 . . . from the heavens up above.

Wednesday, December 8, 2010

Light



After light travels space, it penetrates the seas,
So Rainbow sits by Eva, a photo taken by me.
Both of these babes, by photons are linked,
Twins of this earth became one when I clicked.

Monday, November 22, 2010

Stuck in Vierzon


Wheat fields, slender water in furrows
Calm yielding fog. Misting.
Barns loom.

Life view, belonging.
I belong.
Your life even is not yours,
   my awareness is not mine.

Take courage in this.

Write - when the thinking is right
tidal forces of change
mind distended by super gravitation
a sphere becomes a hollow tube

pride, achievements, all are yours, all dreams, all truths that are,
   all that is, grows, is yours.

now you must leave it here,
   you must leave yourself behind, when you go.

Stuck in Vierzon,
even though I’m here I ask myself
     where the hell is Vierzon?

.

Thursday, November 18, 2010

Notes on "The Subatomic Meson"



The idea for my poem the 'Subatomic Meson' occurred to me when I was at college, when quarks were first named by physicists Murray Gell-Mann, and George Zweig. There were six quarks in all, named Top, Bottom, Up, Down, Strange, and Charm by advanced researchers during the 1960's and 70's.

It was a heady time, and very liberated. I realized there was a decidedly bizarre mythos running through the names of subatomic particles, in fact through all naming processes.

'Physics' is a 'naming process', and being a 'science', is not exempt from the capriciousness of physical scientists. An alien mythologist might argue that science is an 'Earth-mythos', one that advances names, as the cutting edges of new myths.

If protons and electrons hold a charge, well then they either attract or repel each other. Energize an atom enough, and electrons move from a higher 'orbit', absorbing or emitting photons to advertise the change. That we have from our old Bohr, Niels. Ditto the subatomic particles, ditto the words. Ultimately, fundamentally, as atoms relate, so must we - they are our ancestors are they not?

That was the old physics.

-:-

If you are with me so far you might accuse me of steering my argument into the direction of physics as conceived by Hindu myths, but I am not. I don't consciously hold to any myths at all, but also know that my life, like everyone else's, is conditioned by myths.

The illusion of freedom, while knowing that one lives within mythic structures, is subtle. As Carl Jung pointed out, a modern scientist who professes not to believe in God may still hide Easter eggs for his children, or tow a tree into his living room near the end of December, or instinctively lower his voice when entering a Church or library. The instincts within us are more ruled by myths than the conscious layers of our minds, which we use to reason away the various causes of why we do what we do.

So while I make attempts to 'resist' mythology, myths are my makeup, and compose much of the wiring of every human on this planet. We could say myths are the closest parallel to hardwiring in a computer, and while there is no evidence that structural beliefs are in any way associated with genetic inheritance, they certainly are a software development that takes form within our individual minds at a very young age. The educating bodies, our societies at large, pass on these stories when we are very young and strengthen them throughout our lives. Wasn't it Carl Jung who argued that the most powerful myths are the ones we cannot see?

Any human endeavor, will automatically select and contribute to a mythos, as if that activity were just a particle itself and bending in trajectory because of larger forces at work, just as light bends around a star. If we accept this model temporarily, myths function in the same way as explanations for gravity, or electromagnetic fields.

Gravity and electromagnetism act. To date, those forces remain unexplained, though we know extremely accurately how to describe their actions. The distinction between explanation and a model for action is an essential one in science. Does an equation explain or model behavior? Clearly the latter. The frontiers of science provides models for inexplicable behaviors without so much as a shred of evidence explaining a deeper 'why'.

Yet myths, just like theories, also attempt a 'why', and these explanations inform everything we do.

Mythos, as a category. takes a role within a psychological model for behavior similar to the way mathematical theories describe the actions of physical forces. If scientific theory and mythos have parallels which we recognize, then the basic forces of nature as defined by science have parallels with the psychological archetypes as defined by psychology.

We acknowledge that we are ultimately shaped by the truly massive forces that shape everything. We acknowledge there are forces from which life provides no escape, via the hardwiring of our tiny beings. The design of the universe is recked with myths. Our deepest understandings of the world about us are informed more by mythos, than by the current investigations of science. Yet science is aging, and so, science itself is becoming a mythos not dissimilar to the Christian, alchemical and astrological myths that preceded it.

I stress the similarity of light bent around a star by the force of gravity. So the deep sources of our behaviors are offered the explanations of a myth. Myths and theories, one subconscious, the other conscious, may be imagined as metaphors, or teaching constructs.

Succumbing to the forces of the archetype is ultimately disastrous, as Jung recognized. Yet it happens to us all. We die. A moth diving into the lure of the flame, a jetliner plummeting in obedience to the massive attraction of our planet. A heart stops. Every auto decays in rust, is remelted, or shredded by the actions of wind and water. A quasar brilliantly illuminates a corner of the universe while falling, dying, into a black hole.

So our subconscious images to cope with such forces, employing the forces of myth and naming. Our language is wired by our myths to deal with such forces.

Naming and language hold equal roles in myth construction and maintenance. Just as we are married to the languages used to structure imaginative thought, those languages are in turn married to myths that imagine modes of mind, soul and spirit. The two are as inseparable as form and content.

With complete freedom from the attractors of linguistic birth impossible, a temporary release from incarceration by a the archetypal ancestors of language is possible, by learning another, or better, by devising another language.

Learning romance languages for an English speaker does shift the ground ever so slightly. Mastering ancient pagan or aboriginal tongues, will bend the plane even more. But on earth at this time when access to multiple languages is more possible than ever before, languages everywhere are in a kind of common gravitational collapse, with human activity across the planet compressed into similar bodies of myth that develop inside us. The smallest languages are having the electrons stripped from their atoms by tidal forces as the entire species of human language continues to fall into the attractor beam of the linguistic archetype. Evolution never stops. We accept the very notion of separate languages, a notion that is also a myth.

There's no escape from the archetypes, though, it must be said that languages, science, and the activities of the human ego, are noble attempts at freedom. To escape the archetypes means loss of life as equally as collapsing into their center. These are the patterns that make life possible, that give the beaver its intelligence to build dams, that inform all the patterns that make for intelligent life. Nothing ever becomes so indistinct as distinction. For our momentary life as particles of light, our thoughts fly away the galactic mother that gave birth to us and propagate through a universe of reason and feeling, before being swallowed up by the same massive body.

Thus naming subatomic particles 'ancestors' is just the kind of farcical statement that will outrage any physical scientist. I'm poking fun at the cosmology of the Big Bang, the very notion that the whole thing has a point source of all energy and matter, and thus, is everyone's ancestor.

-:-

Language, and human myths, for there is evidence that a kind of mythos informs all living species, co-evolved alongside science and technology. Linguistic equivalents of new theories of matter and energy have popped up as quickly as new quarks under hundreds of giga-electron volt energy beams from very expensive pieces of equipment. As science evolved, so did our mythos of science.

The language of physics does tell a story. It begins with ancient notions of energy and mass, fire, air, earth, and water. The Greek 'atom' had little detail. It was simply the stuff of existence that could not be divided into smaller pieces. Yet this notion of indivisibility was itself a kind of mythos.

Christianity posed a challenge a challenge to this notion. Jesus divided bread more ways than was theoretically possible. It upset the pagan myth of a building block, that could not be broken into pieces. In a way the story became the hint of new forms of thought to follow.

By the Middle Ages the alchemical 'elements', energized by a testosterone desire to 'transmute' base metals into gold, brewed a mythos of alchemy into modern physics and chemistry. Star-gazing astrologers became astronomers, as the biblical/pagan cosmology yielded to the observations of science. Alchemy commingled Christian, pagan and ancient Arabian myths, with astrology and folk traditions, but it gave rise to much 'usable' science.

The true alembic was the mind itself, as older explanations yielded to new powers of observation made possible by the development of new scientific instruments, and discovery of new earth elements.

Similarly astronomers found actual observation of the heavens yielded mathematical models of understanding that stood apart from older astrological assumptions. The new methods required careful and precise observations, with new instruments and methods. Yet it was less ambitious in ways than astrology had been. Whereas the new star science sought to explain the behavior and movements of the planets, moon and stars, the older system sought to explain the behaviors of men, the weather, according to the aspects of the stars. "'The soul of the newly born baby is marked for life by the pattern of the stars at the moment it comes into the world," [Kepler, Harmonics Mundi].




Gottfried Wilhelm Leibniz recognized that Kepler, despite his deep astrological roots, would be the man "the angels had watched that he might be the first among mortals to publish the laws of the heavens," [G. Leibniz (1689), 'Essay on the causes of the motions of the heavenly bodies']

Galileo, Newton, all were focused on the new means of understanding based on precise physical observations  Astrology, which had sought to link the destiny of human beings to the stars, surrendered its heavenly design to a new skeptical science. The destinies of men and movements of stars and planets must be independent. A link, if one existed, was too complex to prove.

Whereas modern science does not credit its historical roots, it does credit the past in naming. Kepler, who had distinguished himself as an astrologer and mathematician at an early age, and made many precise predictions regarding the lives of others, believed the earth possessed a soul. He continued his astrological work throughout his life and maintained that assertion.

Modern science has no easy answer to the problem of the soul. Science as a discipline, injured at birth, dodges the question entirely.

Science, constructed about observations with mathematics as its internal computer, eschewed notions of soul and spirit. Modern psychology persists in this bias, skirting a lack of hard evidence in experiments that have proved fruitless, experiments with extra sensory perception, remote viewing, telekinesis, and the existence of a soul. The researches of Carl Jung are considered para-science by the mainstream. Jung's mentor Freud, whose clinical orientation embraced a scientific method, and more particularly a clinical myth. He insisted that the doors to the universe would open solely through observation.

Again these modes of thought, observation, then hypothesis, then theory, obey the laws of scientific mythos, but clearly construct a process of understanding that is influenced and controlled by human actions. We are priests worshipping Gods of our own creation, still.

Embraced in the new scientific mythos is an assumption of control. We are masters of the universe, our technology is unprecedented, and our understanding is complete, or soon will be. What matters was the method for challenging paradigms, a way of thinking. What in the rules allows us to disrupt the rules?

Newton was right, until the last century. But even Newton recognized the deep gaps in this theories for describing the behavior of light and energy. His theories of motion and gravitation have required extensive modification. Without modification, Newton's laws of motion and gravitation, science admits are false.

-:-

The new science offers nothing concrete. All scientific endeavor is washed up onto a very desolate shore of unsupported theory. Theories all have limitations. Any one could be disproven without science itself being unseated as the supreme method. Again the dictums that no scientist will argue against, are the founding myths of science. Scientific explanations may change, but science won't.

Or can't.

This is a key idea - science was the process, the method for obtaining knowledge. We have not begun to question the process through which which scientific knowledge is revised. We question the models science uses, but not overarching doctrine of scientific method.

Experimental scientists propose methods to test and stress those models. Science took the supreme throne, as a methodology and a ritual, replaced 'Dios'. The Church reacted. Galileo was thrown into prison. The Protestants of the North initially tolerated science, the Catholic south, less so.

Eventually the new methods usurped the role of the church in determining outcomes in many fields of endeavor. Medicine, industry, agriculture, all heeded the new fruits of science, for guidance. Workers in science reported to the method, a new creed, which itself was used to cross-examine the results of experimentation and observation.

The scientific method has not been mankind's only successful endeavor. The development of  many human technologies, agriculture, ceramics, and steelmaking all reached high levels of attainment without science.

Processes of naming, give 'character' to scientific discoveries, naturally turned to older mythologies for those names. Whether the moons of Jupiter first viewed by Galileo, or the radiation emanating from an atom sketched out by Ernest Rutherford, the choice of names for new scientific discoveries is one area where subconscious 'freedom' exists.

Rutherford termed the first forms of radioactivity he observed, 'alpha' and 'beta'. That was his choice, his freedom. Yet it was in many ways a logical choice, stemming from the Greek alphabet, and the painful development of the alphabet over many millennia, by Mediterranean, Celtic and Vedic cultures. The alphabet indeed 'radiates', permeates, as does all media, whether the letters from the pages of a letter, a book, or a web page.

Do we make truth with our science, or do we use science to discover truth?

Scientists would argue that truths are there to be discovered and it matters not who discovers them, the results will be the same. Each scientist, no matter how brilliant his methods, would admit, that unlike the work of an artist, or a poet, tactics, and method were his or her only brilliant act that he or she may lay claim to. The results of one methodology, uncovered something that a later investigator would surely discover anyway. Truth was there to be found, like the ores of metal that exist in the ground.

So in the naming their finds, science tells a different story, and so completes the work of pagan mythologists. And through this act of naming, scientists act as repressed poets. Naming becomes a plea for artistic freedom. The workers in physics, chemistry and astronomy have mapped a mythos that is directly descendent from the myths of the Greeks and early Christian writers . . .

The list of subatomic entities discovered by 20th century physicists, . . . Baryons, Hadrons, Mesons, Quarks, Leptons, Bosons, in all their flavors, has grown quite large. The admission of string-theory into the Standard Model of Physics postulated the existence of yet another class of theoretical particles, such as the Wino and Zino, Gluino, Gravitino, etc.

With each iteration knowledge changes. For nearly a century we've accepted that nothing goes faster than light. Now this has been challenged. The ancients thought nothing was denser than lead. Now nothing is denser than a black hole, or the universe in the first instances of the Big Bang. It seems knowledge cannot be fixed to a defining ruler of any dimension.

One wonders whether we will ever find the end to such explorations. Through massive structures such as the LHC, or Large Hadron Collider, located on the French-Swiss border at a cost of $9 Billion, and other giant budget expenditures, scientists are unlocking the basic laws of matter and energy, at least how they appear to us from Planet Earth. Whether these laws will turn out to remain the same in all parts of the universe, or in all universes, remains to be seen.

The progress of learning about these basic bits of matter and energy, from hints of their existence, to defining their mass, energy, their 'spin', their lives, rates of decay, charge, etc. has taken the better part of a century. Each of the names given to these invisible entities was done without any predetermination. One cannot help but notice that a mythos of attraction is at work.

Back to my poem which deals with names, and the myth of attraction. It is true, in my poetry, I have a predilection for such topics! But the words are there, do you doubt them? Scientists named these particles freely. These names were their fiction, their story. What story, what invention, amidst science, which cannot admit to invention, only discovery.

In the current version of the poem, the Meson is a Mason, of the Masonic Order, and a Baron besides. He believes he is going to a proper club, one where they have all of his favorite things to eat, even though the menu does sound decidedly perverted. Going with the flow he mumbles his perversion to the waitress, who says, in effect, 'You've read me wrong!" and has him thrown out.

I wondered how the words 'meson' (fr. Greek 'middle') versus 'mason', could in one spelling have a pejorative working class connotation, and sound mildly racist, like 'mestizo' or 'half-breed', and on the other hand, with a simple letter change, stand for a presumably honest trade, or membership in the Masonic Order.

Now it is true that the name, 'Pion' is contraction of 'Pi Meson', deriving from 'small' and also 'pi', but were physicists paying attention when they named the quarks, 'top', 'bottom', 'charm', 'strange', 'up' and 'down'?

What about 'bosons', particles assigned with force characteristics (named after a famous Indian physicist, Satyendra Nath Bose.

The ability of a naming structure to 'flip' between states, from a mere Meson, to a Mason, or from 'boson' to 'bosom' shows that there is indeed a kind of quantum mechanics, as well as a class structure, 'mason', 'peon', 'alpha', 'beta', existing in words, and more so, in the letters that compose words. The aristocratic 'Hadron' has a crude anagram, 'hard-on'.

Letters are the fundamental building blocks of language and carry a mythology all their own. The sound of the word Meson /mÉ›sÉ’n/ works for either meaning, the 'mason', one who lays bricks. The basic particles are like bricks, the basic building bricks of nature.

As our civilization falters, unable to cope with major issues of overpopulation, and global warming, and environmental destruction, modern physics, like the civilization that has invented it, is to a degree, out of answers. I am not saying that physics has not been extremely valuable as a pursuit to humanity. It has. But it tells a reality as surely one-sided as 16th Century Catholicism. The myth of physics is coming to a close. It's at the peak of a trajectory, headed back down.

I'm not saying this is sad or lamentable. It's all part of the processes of growth and decay. I am sure that given man's propensity to evolve continually, that the mythos that replaces physics will, in a good many ways, be more accurate.

It is true that science, and physics, both claim to provide answers. Believing that the Pharaohs came from Orion, (not likely but still not disproven), didn't prevent the pyramids from getting built, nor was construction of the Parthenon made impossible by the pagan belief structure that supported it. Similarly science, physics and mathematics now lend, and defend, the belief structure that supports modern achievements, in particular advanced technologies.

If you are a physicist, actively researching real questions, you probably have thrown up your hands in disgust if you've gotten this far. Before you do, please believe me when I say that I first look to science for explanations of reality, but that when science does not have answers, I consider other sources. Logical no? Jung sought alchemical descriptors for tackling issues such as soul and spirit, and the unfathomable mystery of dreams. Science has nothing to say on these issues.

The logos, of science continues to sweep up all that is known into it's big loose sticky ball, which over time has gotten so massive, and become so riddled with inconsistencies, not to mention the foundation of mathematics that backs it up, that it is destined to fall apart into bits, which in turn, like pieces stolen from a cactus, can indeed sprout another mythos all over again.

Science has been extremely useful. It also has led humanity into a wholesale destruction of the planet. It functions as a tool, is cherished as truth, but in reality is a belief system and mythology no more or less than the systems of thought it replaced. A human being nurtured solely upon science is woefully incomplete. As much as we wish we could trust our science, it does not fuction in many areas of human endeavor.

Paradigm shifts are in the air, and when they occur might not be noticed by the most advanced researchers of the day. New mythologies are taking rise.

The LHC was built in order to better understand the universe, in exactly the same manner as the ancient Egyptians built pyramids in order to return their kings to it. The similarity of the two constructions are remarkable. Focusing a beam of light at enormous social cost, and at best, provide a flimsy model for understanding, in return. Most of all they require a belief system to coerce those paying with funds or labor, to contribute.

If this little poem, and essay, are critical of European culture, that is purposeful on my part. The seedbed for modern particle physics has been in Europe, Germany and the U.S., and England mainly, though major contributions have been made by physicists from Japan, Eastern Europe and India. The 'charming' names assigned to particles and bosons have a distinctly English 'flavor' overall.

What I mean to do with my all of my essays touching upon science, is to continuously insist that science is first and foremost a mythology, not a truth, yet one that fits the facts at hand. Does this mean that physicists are sex-obsessed? I leave that for you to decide. Freud, a physicist of the mind, was, and would have happily admitted it.

We will be succeeded by civilizations with differing though useful understandings of the cosmos, that are nonetheless radically altered from our own, and informed with ideas that we at best have only a sketchy notion of, such as, parallel universes, multiple dimensions, non-carbon based life forms etcetera.

The logical response of Logos, when such a shift does occur, will be to lock itself in a room and continue the work, much as astrology continues to function today, as an occasional amusement to a population driven by reason. It is doubtful that astrology will ever again produce a mind the equal of Kepler, who 'shifted' astrology into astronomy, and gave credence to the validity of the scientific methods that he used.

Astrology still has it's uses. Sooner or later we all find out the ocean we're swimming in is limited in size and scale, and instead is part of something much larger.

New vision, new paradigms.

Link to: 'Subatomic Meson

Monday, November 15, 2010

Tachyons


There's no point, looking dull-eyed
at work that won't muster.
Such halls exist where it all rests, immaculate.
Preserved and Dustless,
These points formed me and you.

My paper keeps on folding
Along my World-Line
A fortune sphere exponential,
Possibilities limited, only by light
as snow climbs back to Heaven.

Proving Tachyons . . .
Lovers who never met, laughed and talked,
The meetings did take place,
Only I was not there.


The Higgs Boson



  If the Higgs boson,
  Had an inclination to think
  One might read of quantums,
  Written in Higgins ink.

Two Tears in my Tea

I knew I had caught her, when she poured that hot water,
And cried two tears in my tea.
Whatever I'm drinking, is the same as you're thinking,
The same water's to you or to me.
I propose then a toast to the one I love most,
and whatever you serve me of course.
Please let's not wrangle, but let our photons entangle,
I'll drink your bitter tea, . . . henceforth.


Saturday, October 16, 2010

The Subatomic Meson




One Quark night, a Baryon spun outside of a club,
"Excitons?", he read, “Strange, Bottom or Up!”

 Our Meson strode in, a Prime Hadron, and strong,
"What Sigma have you here?", to the pretty Electron.

“I’d Eta Prime Meson, I'm particularly starved!
 Roton with some QuarkPhoton as it’s charged!

"Xi-ce would be nice, since it's all about spin,
 No harm in some Charm, so Phonon some gin!”

"You seem high on LHC, your drooped eyes are Dilaton!
 We can't serve Wino, or Zino, to a sub-nuclear Meson!"

"My eyes are Glueball-ed by the Super Gravitational Force,
 Held on by Gluinos, to add make-Up would be worse!"

"What flavor of Quark then, gets your Dilatino turned on?"
 Remarked the charming Electron, to the strung-out Nucleon.

"Forgive the Muon-ce of this Bottom Sigma incursion,
I'm a Magnon that's Fermion with a flavour for perversion!"

"We're out of Top, out of Bottom, you might think it Strange,
 Do Trion our young Gluon, who can be Lepton for a change!”

"That flavour I'm O-Kaon, Let's spin in the now!
 Nudism is Buddhism, so says the great Tau!

“I’d Hole into some Delta," our Meson then said,
 A Poisson that's Fermiondecayed, but not dead!"

"My Hypothetical Superpartner is a Saxion at worst,
I could Polaron to me, Bottomness first!

"Xi Omega! No Chargino! By all means go to Tau-n!
 But it seems that you've  mis-GaugedTop Quark for a Down!"

"I'd quantum a Hadron, to Pion to your Boson!"
 Mumbled the Meson to Electron, his sub-atomic cousin.

Our excitable Baryon got Photon-ed to his ass,
Gravitino-ed away, onto his Charmed Bottom-Prime mass!

Now only Neutrinos will he Livermore harass,
Or reputable Protons, . . . .  of his own kind and Class!


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